Jane's Revenge
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: Post 3.1- "I'll get my revenge" he told her at the crime scene. Now, in the security of her home, naked and high on pleasure on her kitchen table, she gets what Jane really meant... Jisbon
1. Chapter 1

Oh, yes, the damn disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real...meanwhile, I just **_"write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed bu the light of reason..." _**(No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...).

Post 3.1- slightly spoilerish, for a couple of sentences.

* * *

It was the first case after the forced vacation in consequence of his encounter with Red John and the following death of three people, and Lisbon doesn't know if she hates more herself or _him. _

It's not like she really, really hates him, but she is quite scared, a good part of her is sure he is plotting something – he knew she knew who the murderer was just like he did, so keeping her in the dark about the killer's identity wasn't such a form of vengeance. She knows she has been mean and horrible, of course she does, she knows that using his love for his daughter was wrong, but he wasn't leaving her any choice. In six months, she had many, too many close calls about the concrete possibility of losing her job because of _him, _and if hurting a bit his feeling is the only way of keeping her badge, well, she knows it's not exactly worthy being in the Director's graces, but it's not like he leaves her any choice.

It's almost midnight when the doorbell rings and she is forced to abandon her reverie and her strawberries with cream to see who the hell dares to visit her at such an unholy hour of the night-no, wait, she knows who dares, there' just one person in the whole world who wouldn't have a problem about visit her past midnight, and that person is a certain pain in ass, former fake psych, current consultant, called Patrick Jane.

And in fact, when she opens the door, here he is, Patrick Jane, grinning like usual, even if this night there's something more in his eyes. He is checking her out, head to feet, and there's no denying that he is appreciating the view (like he has never seen before Lisbon with just her 99 Lisbon Jersey and lingerie…)

"You don't mind me coming in, right?" Jane doesn't wait for a reply, and before Lisbon could do something about it, he is already past her, in her living room, discharging his jacket on her couch, , grinning like usual, vest unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up with hands in his pockets " Relax, woman, I don't bite. Actually, I'm here to apologize"

She doesn't reply, she is quite scared, also because she is sure he is planning something, so she simply lifts her eyebrows, and when Jane enters in her kitchen and starts prepare himself tea, she follows him, keeping a little distance but never let it go of him, looking with suspicion at every move he makes.

"The fact, Lisbon, is that you are right, I'm distancing myself from you all, but you in particular, my dear, and I know I shouldn't, because…. Strawberries with cream!" his eyes shine and even if it's like a child he usually behaves in this kind of situations (it's not strange to see Jane distracted by things, his attention can't last long), there's something… weird in him when he grabs one of the fruits, leaning against the kitchen, facing Lisbon who's in front of him, leaning against the table. "Because you are a grown up woman, and grown up women can look after themselves and take their own decisions…." His husky voice is barely a whisper when he bits into the fruit, licking slowly the drops of juice left and then his lips, his blue eyes into Teresa's green ones.

Is it just her impression, or suddenly the room and the situation are filled with sexual tension? If she didn't know Jane any better, she'd say that what she keeps seeing in his eyes is lust…

"No" he simply says, grinning, biting again the fruit, and not breaking eye contact. "Sexual tension is something that, once released, is all about primal need, instinct, there's just the urge to mate, and the human being is forgotten, not in control" she finds suddenly trapped, her ass against the table, his hands at her sides, Jane in front if her, his breath hot and steady on her lips" and tonight I'm in total control"

He gets closer, and in a quick movement he bits her earlobe, sucking it voluptuously; Teresa gasps when she realizes it was just a distraction, because, in the meantime, his hands has found the violet lacy thong previously hidden by her long t-shirt; when he removes it, quickly, tossing the undergarment unceremoniously on the kitchen floor, grinning against her skin, she doesn't protest.

She remains in absolute silence as he keeps grinning against the tender skin, the same skin he kisses, sucks and bites into, neck, shoulders, lobes…she has to remain in silence, Lisbon is too surprised by this for even just thinking about something, because this is just unbelievable, because this is Jane, Patrick Jane, the man who still is faithful to his wife even if she died seven years prior, the man who hated any second of his date with Kristina Frey, and because…. "Jane…." She whispers in his ear, her breath hot on his neck, and as soon as the sound leaves her lips, Lisbon is quite sure it sounds more like a moaning or a plea.

He stops the heavenly torture on her skin, his breath again on her lips, taking one of her hands in his own, scaring Lisbon, because kisses and holding hands are gestures too intimate, and there's nothing intimate about what he is doing to her, but he simply grins as he talks, his lips millimeters from her own. "Calling me by a girl name while we are going at it? That's a turn off, my dear, and you don't want to turn me off, right?" just to prove his point, he moves the hand he is holding where he has always wanted it to be right from the moment he took it, on the prominent bulge on his pants, where his erection is hidden by too many levels of clothes, and, enjoying the reaction she is provoking him, the only thing Lisbon can think of doing is grinning while squeezing it just a little, just to make him understand that she is totally ok with what they are doing and is enjoying it, and a lot, but, apparently, Jane has other ideas, because he quickly moves her finger away, disappointing her. "Patience, woman, patience, you'll have your fun, just not now. As I told you, I'm the one in control this night, and I think I deserve it, considering how long it has been for me. You'll let me have my fun, you'll not get into my way and you'll enjoy every single second of It." she doesn't even bother to answer or to nod, she simply bites her lips to repress the moans, both of pleasure and of anticipation, as he gets on his knees, his hands busy lifting the jersey, removing it completely from her body, leaving her on the table with just a bra, a match for the thong; she shivers in delight, not regretting for a moment her choice of lingerie of the day, a thong, not exactly the most comfortable piece of lingerie, but definitely sexy and arousing, and a bra with the clasp on the front and strapless- Jane seems to agree with her choice, quite satisfied that she'll have to stay still to remove it, and will not have to lifts her hands from the wood of the table; he hasn't felt that powerful before, not even with all his schemes, he is in control, in control of Teresa Lisbon, and she is melting under his lips and hands.

He kisses and bites and sucks every inch of skin he meets on his way up from her stomach, giving particular attention to her breasts, the nipples in particular, while his hands starts to play with her clit, just skimming over it; he is still completely clothed, but Lisbon doesn't mind, not until he keeps doing what he is doing to her right now. She isn't even too disappointed when he removes her hands from his curls, where she has put them to keep him against her, no space between their bodies, because she simply HAD to feel him hard against her body, Jane can really does what he wants until he keeps this game going on. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm the one in control, woman?" there's no fun in his voice as he whispers on her nipples, hot breath stimulating them even more, he really is in control, and the only emotion present in his is lust and want; she has never felt like that before, like a pawn in a man's hands, but it feels damn good, he can do what he wants and she'll not get in the way.

He spreads her legs wide open, slowly, keeping biting her nipples, already hard and erect, while looking at her face, and it's in that moment that Lisbon feels something wet on her fold, wet and soft, not exactly what she'd like right now; she looks down, looking at Jane, grinning satisfied, Jane, who's stimulating her with a half-eaten strawberry, who keeps skimming over her femininity with it, slowly and eating her with his darkened eyes – she could come just for that.

But she doesn't, like she doesn't when he sprays her with cream, just _there _where he has previously passed the strawberry, where he has left sugary juice at her opening, her hot and wet, very, very wet opening. She just gasps, she opens her eyes because she is done with keeping them closed because she wants to see how their body will fit together, doesn't matter what part of his body will enter her, and she wants to come and she knows that she'll come just looking at him, at how lust filled the man is, she even puts her legs around his shoulders to keep him where she wants and how she wants him.

But, apparently, Jane doesn't like the idea, because with same voice of before, he removes her legs from his body, with decision and command. "I'm the one in command. This night, you'll obey me, Lisbon. This night you'll let it go of your boss identity and you'll do as I say; so, now put your legs like I put them before and close your eyes. After all, your releases last longer when you keep them closed, and don't tell me I'm wrong, because I know I'm not." The last part is merely a low, husky whisper, and she can't help but following his orders, because his voice is hypnotizing (that has to be why he is so good at it) and because he is right: when she has sex, if she keeps her eyes closed, focused on the waves of pleasure and the pleasure only, _her pleasure, _her releases last longer (besides, these are just the preliminaries, she'll have all the times to drink in the sight of Jane, of Patrick, later, when he'll finally really, royally fuck her, not just tease her or pleasure her with food and hands and lips).

"You know, dear, I've wondered for quite a long time what Lisbon with cream and strawberries would taste like…" he was right, she realizes as his hands abandon her clit to pay attention to her breasts, stroking them, torturing them, a torture so sweet and so wonderful she is dying to have her orgasm, already knowing it will be the orgasm of her life; she arches her back, her groin fractioning against the man's face, her fists closed around the table cloth to be more steady, moaning, gasping, close to the orgasm but not there yet, her breathing heavy, her heartbeat erratic. Jane, Patrick, was right because it is so much better now that she keeps her eyes closed, that she gives up control, gives up control so that _he _could be in control, and in control he is.

He is in control when his tongue starts to draw circles on her folds, skimming over them; he is in control when he licks them, when he laps her wet femininity with lust, like a caveman who has been celibate for a way too long and can't wait to feel what's like to be inside a woman with every part of his being again, like a starving animal; he is in control when he penetrates Lisbon with his tongues, in a quick movement, without giving second thoughts, in the same way he would do it if he was impaling the woman on his dick; he is in control when he stimulates and explores her insides, her wet and thigh walls, with his tongue, cream and strawberry juice long gone, already in his mouth, all the time looking at her pleasured features, at Lisbon, who keep moaning at whispering "Patrick" at closed eyes, prisoner of the ecstasy he is brining her…

…and he is in control when, with a quick movement, removes himself from her body, shocking Lisbon. He simply pats her on the shoulders, like she was a stubborn kid that just had a lecture and learned her lesson, and all she can do is standing still sat on the table, eyes wide open, while he grins satisfied with his megawatt smile.

"That, Lisbon dear, it's what happens when you lie and/or try to manipulate me. Next time you think of doing it again, I want you to remember this moment first, considering the pros and cons, and if you'll not behave, I'll not allow you to have your release, just like now, and you wanted to have it, right' because, heaving someone making you come is so much better than coming while touching yourself while you think of me, even if you come nevertheless." He gets closer, his breath hot on her neck as he goes on. And her breath dies in her throat "And don't think that I'm not aware of the fact that you have the secret desire of me, making you come multiple times on the bullpen at night, when we are alone… you want to see that dream coming true, don't you, Lisbon? "

He kisses her on the lips, but it's not about feelings, because he is lustfully kisses her, explores her mouth, bits her lips and her own tongue, trying to make her remember that he is supposed to be the one in control. He gets harder, and he can't believe it was even possible, when he realizes that tasting herself mixed with cream and strawberries through him, on his lips, is turning her on in an unbelievable way.

He knows that he is good, he has always been, but it's quite surprised that, even with all his effort to prolong the sweet agony, she hasn't come yet. He decides that he wants to see if he'll be able to do everything he has in mind and excite her further more without making he come like he wants to- he has been clear, he was going to get his revenge, and brining there, that close to the most amazing orgasm she could ever feel but not there, will be his vengeance. He doesn't matter that she'll probably makes herself come thinking about it on her own later, it will never be like what he'll do to her if she'll learn that he is the one who leis and manipulate and that she can't control and command him.

He puts both if his hands at work, two fingers of his right penetrating her, stroking her hard, the other first unzip his trousers, then takes hold of Lisbon's right and puts it in his boxers, so that she could feel his erection, he wants to let her know just how much she'll miss for her misbehave, he wants to let her know how hard he can be, how big, mostly, he wants to torture her, he wants her to have a taste of him, he wants to know she'll stroke herself to orgasm in her own room or at the office thinking about how it could be like having him inside her, how it could be to have something _that big _inside every part of her body.

But, apparently, Lisbon hasn't learned her lesson at all, because grinning she tries to get an hold of his erection, tries to stroke him, she can't help but thinking about giving him a hand job that he'll never forget, but he stops her, he removes her hand. He told her before- he is the one in control. "Next time, Lisbon, it will be ALL yours, to do as you prefer, but you'll have to behave…"

He leaves, grinning and smiling, without even bother to clean himself from the cream, the strawberry juice and _her_ juices, and it's then, when she is sat on the table, naked, high, unsatisfied for her missing releases, already touching herself thinking about what Patrick has done and could do and will do to have that release, it's then that she release that he has kept his promise- he had his vengeance.

But she is already plotting her payback, actually, she is fantasying about it while stroking herself to orgasm, just like he had foreseen while making her _almost _come- she'll never be able to think the same of her kitchen, it's simply right that he'd never be able to do the same with his car or his beloved couch.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh, yes, the damn disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real...meanwhile, I just **_"write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed bu the light of reason..." _**(No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...).

Post 3.1- no longer spoilersh, no longer complete (chap 3 will be the final one, though)

* * *

She had an idea, and a plan. Jane had ruined a perfect evening, ruined every man for her with his marvelous ministrations and promises of pleasure he didn't gave her, not in the form of the agonized release, at least, but Lisbon isn't sure she can do it.

Not physically, she knows she can seduce him and she knows she wants to, hell, she even knows he wants her as well, his arousal was too strong to be just driven by what he was doing; it was what he was doing _to her _that affected Jane that much, that made him that hard and that drove both of them that close to the edge…

God, she thinks as she lets herself fall in her office chair, the man is really a bastard, and a monster. Not only he pleasured her, brining he close to the edge but never making her come, no, he decided to torture her further more by giving Lisbon a glimpse of "what if"… the mere thought of how he guided her hand inside his boxer, so that she skim on his erection, drives her crazy… it was a sweet torture, of course, and it gave her material to fantasize on, new material to work on (even if the real material is a way better than her mental material), and, yes, she did come at the end, on her own, thinking about Patrick, just like the man had foreseen, but it wasn't the same, it's not the same.

His hands and his lips have been inside her, and she had touched him, and now, touching him just like he had touched her is her new obsession-well, almost, she has to admit that she doesn't mind thinking about going to work with a skirt and no underwear, and sitting in her closed office, blinds down, at her desk, with Jane already there, hidden under the table, and then she can sees him, while she reclines a bit in her chair, opening her legs just a bit, she can sees a mass of blonde curls getting closer to her, and, oh, the sensation of Jane lapping at her wet and naked opening like a starving animal, fucking her with his tongue without thinking about it, penetrating her in a quick move, all the time without breaking eye contact, and then, coming, and Jane licking his wet lips while lapping at her wet core and crying his name, making everyone believe she is just having an erotic dream about that damn blonde devil (not that she doesn't have erotic dreams about Jane, but, still)…

Or maybe he could take her from behind, in a single move, quick, penetrating and impaling her with his huge dick, while she is bending to take something on the floor, and it would be so quick that she could not even register his hands lifting her skirt, and she already knows that with his thrusts he will pleasure her first, he'll not be in an hurry to be the one pleasured, he'll think of her first, making it last as long as possible, thrusting into her slowly first and then quicker and quicker as they both get closer to the climax, she can see Jane opening her shirt with one hand and removing the strapless with front clasp bra, making her breasts finally free, she can see him using his right to stimulate her clit, all the time keeping her back steady against him, and she can sees him, using the other hand to send electricity through her breasts, stroking her nipples until they are not only hard but they hurt as well, and he'd bite the tender skin on her shoulder, just for a while, though, because at a certain point her _first _release will come and then he'll take her mouth in his own so that her cries of pleasure will die in his throat and nobody will ever known how great he is at screwing her, and she'd caress her clit along with Jane with one hand while the other could take care of the other breast…

Or she could do the first move… she could call him in her office, when everyone is already gone, and then she could make him find her completely naked, sat in her chair, busy stroking herself to orgasm while thinking about him royally fucking her… she'll be at closed eyes, she'll pretend she doesn't know he is already there, and she'll make herself come thinking about him, while he'll be there, looking at her coming crying out his name. he'll probably look at all the wonderful and sinful things she'll do to herself, keeping his own problems in his hands… he'll sprang it free, thrusting into his fists, trying to come in silence, scared that hearing him could make her stop, while knowing that he'll be there, masturbating for her, will just make her come harder… she'll come once, then she'll open her eyes, and, when noticing that Jane is scared of being on the wrong side of her fist, she'll join him, she'll force him on the sofa, and kneeling in front of him she'll take it in her mouth. He had tortured her with his tongue, so she'll do the same, she'll lick him, slowly, tip to balls, every inch of his so damn big dick… the friction will be perfect, because he'll be already cumming a little, and she'll not break eye-contact when he'll thrust in her mouth, she'll moan while sucking it dry and while licking it, all the while without releasing it from her lips. She wonders how she'll feel when he'll cum into her mouth; she has never had something that big in her mouth before... well, actually, she had never liked oral sex (doing oral sex, moreover) that much, but that was something about Jane… it was about what he had done to her that night, he had allowed her, forced her to let it go for the first time. Patrick Jane, she realizes with a little smile, is mostly a funny man, easy going, he is a man who, even in disgrace, has been able to conserve a sparkle of what he used to be. Deep down, Jane is funny and still the boy he used to be, and he has been able to bring fun into her life. He has done so much to make her smile, and Lisbon is quite sure that, will they ever reach the bed (ok, not just the bed, any surface where they could dance the horizontal tango) he'd bring fun there as well, allowing her to let it go, like he has done just few days prior. She doesn't care about her revenge any longer, ok, she still does, but not that much, just a little, she just wants the fun he could bring into her life, she wants to be able to be happy and carefree again and she wants Jane to feel the same. Admitting this is scary, because it means that, even with her lust filled dreams, with all her fantasies, it's not going to be about sex. No, she realizes with a heavy sigh, she's not going to have sex with Jane, because there's not a part of her body and soul that doesn't want to _make love _to and with Patrick; the office and his car, like the out of town motel rooms are forgotten, because, if she is going to make love with him, she doesn't want something quick or something, well, a bit perverted or fetish (even if she is the first one admitting that she has a thing for sex at the office with Jane, but that can come later). If she is going to make love to Patrick, she wants something special, something romantic, and something he'll never forget. It's the least she can do, considering (like he has reminded her that fateful night) that she is the first woman he is touching in that way since his way. Sophie, Kristina and all the widows and suspects are long forgotten, she doesn't care about them any longer and, somehow, even if she has never trusted Jane when he told her that nothing happened after his wife, now she does. She is pretty sure that he could never lie to her, not now, not after what he did to her, not while doing it… Jane, even if in an evil way (it's not like she is going to forgive him since he didn't allow her to have the rightful release) allowed her to forget, let it go and being happy for a while. She HAS to reciprocate. But all in due time, she thinks grinning; she'll not sleep with him, yet, at least. First, she'll torture the old, good Patrick a bit, in her own personal way. Everything will have to be set perfectly according to her little plan, but, oh, she'll torture him, nevertheless. And, in the meanwhile, she'll try to do what she has learned from him-she'll seduce him, slowly, making him realize that there's not a chance for him to have a life where she isn't present. It will be not about sex or lust, at the end, it will be about love, because, even if he dares to deny it, she knows that Patrick Jane is a good man-the best one, and he deserves to be loved. She just has to show him that she is that person for him, that she wants to be the person he'll move on with (she already thinks he is considering it, so, she is pretty sure it will not be a big deal).

XXX

Two weeks later her internal monologue, the occasion she is waiting for finally comes, something she can't believe to, since he has decided to _behave _all of a sudden, and she is not sure why- maybe the last prank and almost suspension (hers) made him realize how childish and, well, stupid he can be at times, or maybe, her late night chats with him have had the whished effect, like the shared meals, and he really, well, _likes-likes _her, and has decided that risking her life and reputation isn't a good thing for a possible future relationship. Of course, there's also the concrete possibility that Jane remembered that he is a 41 years old man, who actually has 41 years, and like said man he should behave.

She almost collapses for her hysterical laughs, realizing that there's no way that the words "mature" and "serious" could get along with the name "Patrick Jane".

And, even if it was the case, well, he just proved her wrong, since he has spent the whole day on his own trying to frame a suspect in his unique way, exactly what she needs. So, in the private of her room, she just dials his cell phone number, and, waiting for Jane to answer, puts immediately it on speaker, giggling while trying to get into character-bossy and mad Senior Agent Lisbon.

"Where the hell are you? I swear to God, you better have a reason, and a good one, for having left work without telling anyone, or otherwise…" she almost screams, trying her best to sound frustrated the "I'm mad with you" kind of frustration.

"Jeez, woman, relax, I haven't done anything illegal – she can hear the smiles in her voice, and she understand why a second later – yet. And I'm pretty sure I'll not do anything illegal at all today, since I'm already on my way to the CBI. I should be there in ten minutes time."

And that's when she decides to put her plan in action, both because he said the "yet" like a menace, both because he is driving, meaning she can finally get to him for what he has done to her that damn night, so she sighs, entering in a fake "I'm stressed and sick and tired" kind of frustration. "Jane, seriously, you don't do anything stupid, please. You can't imagine how I am stressed these days, and not even the shower I just had helped me into _release _the tension…" she grins, already imagining the poor man picturing her having shower "God, I was so worried you had done something stupid that I didn't even took time to dry myself, I'm all _wet,_ I didn't take time to get dressed to check on you, I'm still sitting on my bed and it's all your fault!" she hears him taking a big breath, and hopes he'll not have an incident, because, if he got distracted with this, he doesn't have idea of what she has in store for him, so, grinning, she goes on, talking with total nonchalance as she has planned for days "Weird, now that I look at myself in the mirror, I see that I've never noticed that I have a beauty mark on my right nipple…I should check it out and see if something is wrong… do you think that cupping it is enough to check on it, or do you think that I should take it between my fingers?"

"…fingers…"

"You are right; I should take it between two fingers and… press it between them… just like that… slowly… squeezing it a bit… just like that, repeating it many, many times…"

"…many…times... yes…"

"It doesn't seem different from the other times I did it, but maybe, to make sure, I should check the other out as well, in the same way, in the same moment… you know, since you say you haven't done anything stupid, I think I have time right now…"

"Yes, you should… check the both of them… yes…" he grunts something, and Lisbon can't help but suppress giggles as she can understands he is not only turned on, but a bit uncomfortable with the whole thing. A part of her would stop the tease, but he was the one to start it, and, as much as she "loves", or at least she thinks she does, the man, he deserves a taste of his own medicine before the real thing could start. Just for future reference, she thinks, so that he could learn that he shouldn't mess up with her.

"Oh, lord, it's so cold… I should have kept at least the robe or a towel…maybe I should go get one…"

"NO! I mean, if you have to… to touch… to check on your nipples…you breasts, I mean… it could just…just go in the way…."

"You are right, besides, sitting here on my bed, I'm so comfortable… I'd be more comfortable just leaning back… but you are right, I have to check my breasts first" she grins as she strata to stroke her won breasts, cupping them both, full hand, giving particular attention to the nipples, that under her touch become immediately hard and erect, sending shivers of pleasure in her whole body and awakening the so familiar feeling in her belly, the warmth that she so hopes Jane was feeling as well. As she arches her back, moaning softly, but that he can still hear her, she imagines him, stopping along the road, hands firmly around the wheel, head on it as well to suppress the need of doing in public something that in public shouldn't be done- even if the thought of Jane stroking himself for her in his car, risking to be caught, is quite erotic and just drives her more crazy "mmm…. They are… perfect…as…usual…" she stops, and looks at her reflection in the mirror in front of herself, red in face and already breathing hard, something Jane can hear very, very well, awakening the same reaction in him, and, smiling, she stops to tease her breasts with both hands, deciding that just the right can do, and, slowly, without saying anything lost in the pleasure and in the imagination, her left descends, massaging and stroking her stomach first, just to reach, finally, her folds. Her breath becomes more erratic, and her subconscious is sure that Jane knows what she is doing even if she doesn't speak-she can no longer do it, there's something else on her mind, visions of a blonde man stroking her breast and then caressing her folds, her hot and wet, very wet folds there, and, slowly, she enters herself, stroking herself slowly first and then quicker and quicker, harder and harder, without removing them, not even for an instant, and then… then, the spasms really start, and she moans and gasps, moaning unconsciously his name, her pleasure just made 10 times stronger by the fact that she is actually looking at herself stroking to orgasm for Jane, thinking of Jane, of what he did and what he can do.

Few minutes later, the spasms come to an end, and, letting herself fall on the bed, Lisbon closes the call, smiling proud of the mess she has made of Jane…

She is not sure of the ball is in his side of the camp right now, she is not sure if, now that they are even, he'll do something. What she knows, though, is that she wants to have him in her arms, and when it will happen, it will be not out of lust, not only, at least, but out of love, because, as appealing fucking Jane may be, there's nothing she wants more than making love to and with him.


	3. Chapter 3

Oh, yes, the damn disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real...meanwhile, I just **_"write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed bu the light of reason..." _**(No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...).

Post 3.1, that has already been said, but, I'd like to tell you 2 things: 1) that's the final chapter, and 2)i'm sorry if it took me so long, that I've been through a busy schedule with work and life...

* * *

Suddenly, after the "incident", and the revenge and counter-revenge, Red John strikes back, and whatever happened between the two of them isn't mentioned again, and, step by step, they come back to being just Lisbon and Jane, boss in charge and annoying consultant.

Lisbon doesn't talk about it, neither does him, the glances they send each other scream a million of different things, yet similar, and they way his hand linger, often, unseen by the others, on her own, is a plea, his way of asking her to forgive him if he is backing up, that he is too scared of losing her, that he can't allow himself to feel, and, deep down, Lisbon wonders if he'll ever be able to, if he isn't able to move just now or it's something he'll never be able to.

In her mind, it's over before it could even begin, and she doesn't care. Of course, she is sorry; because she had seen a side of Patrick Jane their coworkers weren't aware of and wanted to see more of it, but, deep down, she always knew there wasn't place for her in his heart, Angela and Charlotte were always going to come first, Red John was always come first. He had, in a certain sense, played her, that night, all the time they have spent together as colleagues, she was a pawn and she really believed it.

That, of course, until Red John strikes again, for the last time, taking her hostage, trying to blackmail Jane, getting killed by Cho.

That changes everything, and it's only then that Teresa realizes that she has been blind…

She has been sat on her couch the whole day, staring in the void, fighting the tears while her hands hold the bandage around her neck, where a small scar will, one day, soon, make show of itself, where Red John, just the day before, cut the tender flash in order to destroy Jane once and for all. She can't stop thinking about Jane, about how scared he was, how lost he looked as he held her in his arms, his eyes focused on the dead body of a killer on the pavement in front of them.

Now it's almost two in the morning, she is still awake but has decided to seat in the dark, and she is brought back to reality by the doorbell. A small smile crosses her features, knowing that one person and one person only could be there at such an hour. She switches a light on, and runs, throwing herself in his arms even before the door could be totally open.

She didn't think she was going to see him again, but here he is, holding her like for dear life in the entrance of her apartment, his tears mixed with her own.

"It's over…" he whispers, husky, but a brand new kind of husky, not like the previous time they've been kind of together, there's lust, of course, but there's want and there's need, and something else. "Teresa…"

He breaths her scent, losing himself in what it's Teresa Lisbon and Teresa Lisbon only (it's a mix of Musk, Cinnamon, and something that's just her. No one could just… feel… the same way) as her breathing and heart bit get louder and quicker and heavier, while his hands venture under the T-Shirt, the Lisbon 99 jersey again, forcing their bodies to collide in a soft and yet quick motion.

His lips finally move from her hair, to descend on her neck, and it's with his mouth that Jane moves the neckline of the jersey to gain access to her shoulder, while the hands have found her breast, and are now… feeling them.

It's nothing like that time, she realizes as she closes her eyes, smiling, the door closed with a quick movement of Jane's right foot; there' no urgency, there's just sweetness- she is not sure, but she thinks her heart stops when she realizes that they are about to make love, and not just have sex or pleasure each other.

"He is gone…." He repeats with a smile, against her skin, kissing her neck on a pulse point, his thumbs busy skimming over her nipples. She doesn't answer, while her arms around his neck. She doesn't care, hell, she doesn't even care what will happen between them, and the only important thing is that Jane is there with her, he is not gone, and he is free, body and soul. "Good God, Teresa, you can't imagine how much I love you…" he whispers, and it's all the incentive she needs. Without saying a word, she takes his hand in hers, and drives him toward one of the two rooms Jane already knows, the bedroom.

She smiles when she forces him to seat on the edge, when she stands in front of him, and, without shyness, without hesitation, gets undressed, removing, slowly and seductively, the jersey, the bra, the panties, just to offer Jane again her hand, to help him standing.

He closes his eyes with a content smile, sighing, when she starts to undress him, as slowly as she has done with herself, kissing him the whole time, sweetly, mouths exploring each other, yes, but tentatively, in an unsecure way, and not always at closed eyes. They still remain breathless, at the end, though, and the kiss is accompanied by caresses and exploration, slow and delicate.

They part, and move to the bed, where she makes him lay, caressing his blonde curls the whole time, never stopping the contact, never stopping to looking at him, never stopping to smile at him- not even when she moves to be on top of the man, not even when she tentatively lick his lips, just to come back immediately to sit, eyes in the eyes, not sure about how she is supposed to feel with Jane drinking in the sigh of her naked body, something so different from the last time he has seen her in the same way…

His hands moves from her hands to her arms to her shoulders to her hips, exploring every inch of skin, touching as much of her as possible "Teresa, it's been… a while, a long while, actually, seven years since…"

She silences him with a finger in his lips, but he removes them, not breaking eye contact, uneasy about this, not about the sex per se, but by something else, something that bothers him. "I'm not sure I'll be up… to your expectations…"

She smiles again, and again she doesn't answer with words as she descends so that their lips could meet each other yet again, her hands on his chest his in her hair, and it's Lisbon's unique way of telling him that it doesn't matter, because they'll have all the time for live up to her expectations, because right now, Patrick needs to let it go, to feel loves, and loving him is what she has all the intentions of doing…

With a voluptuous movement, she moves her hips so that he could finally enter, in just a quick move, into her, moving slowly her hips moaning softly, whispering his names on his lips as they thrusts with the same rhythm, like they were born to be together, like they fit together, like they belong together.

His thrusts are slow at first, but, as the breathing of the two humans in the room get heavier, as the pleasure fills them, they become quicker and quicker, until they collapse into each other arms, and the only thing she could do is resting herself on top of him, kissing his chest, his chin, his lips, his nose, his forehead, smiling, embracing him, whispering what he has always wanted to hear her saying. _"I love you."_

Its' in this position that they fall asleep, it's in this position that they sleep for hours, until Teresa is awakened by the feeling of fingers skimming over her.

When she opens her eyes, they are both lying on their side, in front of each other, and Patrick's fingers, the one of his right hand, are drawing invisible patterns along her back, until they reach her bottom, insinuating then itself between her legs, skimming over her inner thigh, making her shiver and smiling in anticipation and pleasure, and then, down, until it reaches her knee, lifting it, the leg, and interlacing their limbs, one of his own legs pressed between her owns, hips buried into each other, and she can't help but biting her lips, hoping that he'll do something, that he'll not do like that time… she can't wait for that to happen, to happen again, and this whole… what he is doing is driving her crazy, crazy with desire.

He cups her breasts with his hands, fully, and kisses her chest, her face, her lips, grounding his hips against her stomach, so that she could feel the arousal, and being aroused in return.

He kisses the wound on her neck, almost in tears, and there's only one thing she is scared of in that movement, losing him to hate, to a dead man; there's something in his eyes, something dark, but yet sparkling…. "Patrick…" she whispers, fighting back her own tears.

It's then that he lifts her head with brute force, catching her lips, kissing her like a starving beast, devouring her, her soul with that kiss, a possessive and almost violent one, and it's in that moment that she understands: it may not look like, but this is about love, it's about possession, his possession upon her, and fear. He is doing it because he needs to remember that she is really there, in his arms, that she is alive, that it's over, every action he does seems to scream" you are mine", like when he opens her legs without grace and hesitation, when he bites in the skin of her shoulder while entering into her in a quick move, his hand taking her face into his palm rudely, his fingers on her lips. There's nothing sweet or malicious about this, it is fire pulsing into their veins, and desperate and animal need, everything that he said that evening wasn't there.

He keeps thrusting into her, not slowly, but harder and harder, stronger and stronger, while Teresa can't help but meet him halfway, arching her back, her head falling, hips buried into each other, both moaning, Jane against her chest and Lisbon against his fingers, until they reach the final step of the ecstasy he once promised her, once again….

XXX

When she wakes up the next morning, for a second, she thinks it had been all a dream, but, then, she feels the sweet pain in her lower area, his scent over the pillows, and, mostly, she sees his clothes, shattered all over the room.

Patrick may not be in the room, she thinks giggling, but he is definitely in her apartment, and of the marvelous smell tells her something, it's that he is cooking her, them breakfast, a breakfast that, after all the activity of the previous night, they both need.

She reaches him just few minutes later, wearing just his white shirt, and, before to let him know she is there, she gets lost for a while in the sight of the back of Patrick Jane wearing just a pair of boxers and cooking something in the pans.

"Seen something that you like, Teresa dear?" he asks her grinning, and then, knowing she has been spotted, she takes courage, and reaches him, embracing him from the back, her head resting on his shoulder, and they tenderly kiss, smiling.

"Let's say that it's a sight I could get used to." she pauses, noticing Jane sending a look at the table at their backs, grinning with the same look he had that night "And you, Mr. Jane, what's going on in that contorted mind of yours?"

"Oh, nothing, I was just going through memory lane, you know" he says with nonchalance, naturally, before turning into her embrace and lifting Teresa on the table, just like months before "but my memory isn't exactly as good as it used to be, so I'm pretty sure I'll need a repeat…"

"Oh, is that so?" he answers her with a kiss, a mind-blowing one, and then, as the shirt reaches the floor, only laughs and happiness can be heard from the room.

She was right; she realizes as he never stops to kiss her, making love to and with Patrick Jane is a way better than what used to go on in her dreams.


End file.
